


Fragile Gardenias

by manass777



Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Confessions, Drama, Drama & Romance, Flirting, Friendship / Flirting / Thinking of You Fest, M/M, Pining, Possibly Unrequited Love, Slow Burn, Unexpected Visitors, hot phone calls lol, love interest has a boyfriend cliche, possible pov change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:41:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28991607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manass777/pseuds/manass777
Summary: Every day for the past two years, George was like dangling fruit in front of Dream. A fruit he could never sink a bite into no matter his reach. His respect for his best friend was a rope reluctantly holding him back. That is until George begins to talk to a new lover; someone other than Dream. The threads will soon snap. The secrets held in his heart can not be caged for much longer.--He looked cute like this. Riled up and elated; almost blowsy from whatever intense conversation he just had on the phone. Dream studied this face of his, one dazed and flustered.'If only- 'His thoughts were hastily cut off. This was exactly what Dream should avoid.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 46





	1. A Hindrance

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic i have been planning out a while and wrote a scene that I was eventually wanting to put in way later in the story. If you are coming from Woefully Endearing, just erase if from ur mind. It totally wasn't spoliers or anything ;) 
> 
> anywho, when i say angst i mean it. There is some themes of ill relatives so keep that in mind if that makes you uncomfortable. I hope I didn't start out too fast but i do intend to give a good amount of storyline so stick around if you enjoy some nice angst :)))

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George makes a phone call on stream, throwing Dream for a loop.

The clanky taps of his keyboard, the smell of dust wisping the chilled, arid room. The subtle flashing of his monitor screen. It was repetitive. The clipping of audios, inserting things he had almost forgotten to insert. Dream breathed out a pique sigh, inclining his chin back. His jaw was sculpted by the flush luminescence. Rolled up to his forearms he wore a fitted dark grey sweatshirt. His day had been overrun with working on a “Best of Dream 2020” compilation. While the video lengths out to almost an hour long, he hadn’t even gotten to his videos he made in July.

A broken shout interrupted Dream’s sulking. His eyes glazed over to his second monitor. Stifled profanity and laughs sent an ache into his gut. He watched as George giggled minacly while chasing down the disrobed skin of Quackity. Dream felt desiderate, wanting nothing more than to close out his Adobe Effects and amuse himself with friends. Instead, George had insisted he get the video done before the end of January. A whine trickled out his throat, running a hand through his dirty blond strands. Dream began shuffling things around his desk; a few notebooks and empty, stained mugs. A headache was straining down his eyes for about an hour; he simply couldn’t take it anymore. The rattle of a small container labeled ‘Ibuprofen’ was finally found at the corner of his desk. Popping two into his mouth as he began to unscrew the lid of a sweating water bottle.

“Hold on, hold on! Chat, someone’s calling me.” The Discord ring of a mute and deafen alert caught Dream to peer back up to his screen. A bashful grin smeared across George’s face, almost lighting up just from the person's voice on the other line. Dream’s heart felt a tug. _What the fuck?_ It was not only the fact that George would really pick up the phone in front of around 70k viewers just to chit-chat, but also the fact that Dream felt a pang. _Jealousy? No_. He couldn’t continue his non-mutual pining that has been dragged out for years now. It was unhealthy. He had finally come to terms with that fact. His late night daydreams of moments that will never happen had to be turned away. Clay furrowed his brows before taking a smooth gulp of water, washing down the capsules. _It could just be his sister or something._ He thought until something caught his eye, widening at the sight. A burning flush through George’s cheeks through a flattering, muted giggle. The words he spoke could almost be read out on his lips: ‘I’m cute?’.

Dreams jaw clenched, setting the water bottle down, turning his attention to the stream more. Seeing this was almost making it hard to breathe for him; lungs tightening, a fist clenched on his lap.

George suddenly got up and stepped off screen while Quackity began to entertain the chat. The chat in question was in flames. Even while going too fast, it was obvious what they were asking about. The blond couldn't help but release a breathy laugh, almost in an offended tone. “God, what am I doing.” He mumbled before repositioning in his chair, attempting to feel a little less tense. Moments later George sat back in his seat, almost looking like he was out of breath.

“Sorry, guys. I had to help my mum with something.” He looked cute like this. Riled up and elated; almost blowsy from whatever intense conversation he just had. Dream studied this face of his, one dazed and flustered.

_If only-_

His thoughts were hastily cut off. This was exactly what Dream should avoid. This was doing nothing good for his emotions. He leaned into his desk, clasping his mouse and bringing it up to close the tab. His actions paused however, taking another mournful look at George. His banter was intoxicating.

_If only I was the one to make him so worked up._

Dream chewed the inside of his mouth, eyeing his Discord window. “Fuck it.” He mumbled under a rasp. He loaded up a chat with George.

‘Do you have room for one more?’ He messaged. At the corner of his eye, he watched as the other’s dark eyes flick to his second monitor. His Minecraft screen paused, potion effects halting for a brief moment.

‘Did you finish the video?’

Dream rolled his eyes.

‘It's hard to focus right now’ He typed back, glancing back over at the stream as George’s head shaked a little in disappointment.

‘Fine, if you can handle Alex.’

The crooks of his mouth beamed, navigating to the call that held the two.

“Dream!” George immediately yelled as he connected. “Get on the server, Quackity is trying to-” He was cut off by a nearly deafening, distorted scream from Quackity. The auto-tune made it horrendously annoying, yet managed to make Dream break into laughter. Logging into the server, George’s chat was seen ecstatic about Dream’s arrival, bringing a soft smile to his face. “Quackity! Give me back my stuff!” George continued to plead.

“Not until you give me your phone number, Gogy.” Alex chuckled, killing the other for a fourth time.

“No one can just _have _my phone number. Only family and stuff has it.” George rubbutled, making his way back to his death spot.__

“Oh really?” Dream coaxed in a teasing tone. “I have your phone number. Does that mean I'm special?”

“That’s different and you know it.”

“Oh so you give your number to someone like Dream but not me? Please just let me send you good morning messages, George.” Quackity persisted, punching George’s character.

“Someone like me?” Dream laughed sarcastically.

“Sometimes he needs me for stuff. Discord just isn’t as urgent.” A small hitch in his breath could be heard over the call. Clay’s eyes narrowed, frustrated a bit that George would say that in front of an audience. He looked over at his other monitor to see George drag his bottom lip between his teeth. He could tell regret immediately ate him for that. It was true, though. Late nights Dream would find himself overthinking anything and everything. George emphasised that if he needed comfort he could always call, and he did. Sometimes the fervent of the conversations would lead to small sobs, other times a laughing fit. It was nights like those that made Dream feel like there’s no one else in the world that could make him so euphoric. Their bond, almost like his own exclusive love pill; pure ecstasy.

“God, quit flirting.” Quackity broke the small silence. “Just know that you aren’t getting your stuff back till’ I get your phone number.”

“Oh my god,” George sighed. “Fine, fine. Thanks for the shitty ultimatum.” His eyes rolled, picking up his phone to pull his number up. The next few minutes the two bantered, making the exchange and throwing quips that made Dream giggle as well. The stream continued for another half hour. Dream picked up more to argue about something fatuous with Quackity and to make fun of his height. Slowly George’s voice was numbing. Responses became lazy and eyes would drift. He was clearly drowsy.

“You look like you’re about to nod off.” Dream observed with a small chuckle.

“Probably because I am.” He retorted, sliding back in his chair with an arm stretch. “All right chat, I’m calling it a night.” George began to preach goodbyes to his watchers, viewer count slowly trickling down until the stream went black. Dream began to browse twitter, multitasking as he continued to chat with the others. His timeline was almost flooded with inquiries about the stream. ‘I guess George wasn’t lying when he said Dream calls when he needs him.’ He began reading a tweet by a random fan ‘But I didn’t expect him to need him like _that_ mid-stream.’ Followed by a blushing face. This made Dream giggle under his breath. As he started scrolling again his mind drifted back to the stream earlier. George’s face. What he was saying. A sudden twinge in his chest made his breath stop due to a realization.

_The person earlier was calling on his number, wasn’t he?_

Clay grimaced at the thought, looking away from his screen as chatter faded into white noise. George had just elucidated how his phone number wasn’t given to just anybody. Of course, he didn’t know for sure but the idea of it made his stomach turn.

_Damnit._

“Damn what?” George’s voice snapped Dream back, pressing his lips together shut. His sharp, green eyes flicked back to Discord. He didn’t realize he thought out loud.

“Erm,” He began, wisping his hair out his face nervously. “Nothing. I've gotta get going. Busy day tomorrow.” Dream almost tumbled over his words, hovering over the disconnect call button. “Talk to you guys later.”

The call ended, interrupting a confused “Okay?” from George. Clay clasped a hand over his forehead, exhaling slowly. The fact that he was so frustrated over George’s potential lover made him even more frustrated. He had never been the jealous type but _this. _I__ t pumped his blood with envy. Dreams fit was interrupted as the gleam of his cracked bedroom door peeking behind him. He turned his chair around, greeted by Patches. His scornful position flattened, leaning down in his chair to pet his purring, ash brown cat.

“Sorry.” He whispered. He directed this to the cat, but it was expressed as if he were speaking to himself. “I'll feed ya. C’mon.” Dream reluctantly stood from his chair, making his way to his kitchen. His house wasn’t exactly small. His rooms were ample enough to fit a gathering but not exactly palatial. They radiated a snug atmosphere, decorated with a more rustic scenery. Half-liquified candles dotted the surfaces, a few piles of envelopes scattered his coffee-table. He liked his home. While at this point in this career he could afford something much grander, he found no reason to go through with it. Him and his feline companion were content.

\--

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there around two.” Clay said briskly, holding his phone between his shoulder and cheek as he rummaged through his wallet. “Love you too. Bye.” After pulling out his card he untucked his phone, hanging up. His screen read ‘Mom’, while under showed that they had been calling for only four minutes. It was the next day, and while Dream was spewing in the heat of the moment, he wasn’t lying when he said he had a busy day. Seeing his mother wasn’t necessarily strenuous for him either, however lately was much more toll taking on his emotions.

A loud mewl and a push on his calf interrupted his thinking. “I know. I’ll get more food on the way back.” He reassured, looking down at her glossy pupils with a gentle smile. He then began to sit down at his desk, sticking his wallet into his back pocket. Dream breathed out, running a hand through his bangs as he waited for his computer to start up. He took this time to pay his electric bill before it was to shut off that weekend. Knowing his way around a computer, it wasn’t exceedingly difficult, however the dip in his bank account always left a sting. By the time he had finished, it was a quarter till two. Standing from his chair, he moved to his living room. Clay, snatching a brown coat off the corner of his couch, patted his pockets to make sure he had his keys. He was clearly in a rush, speeding his way to the door. He wore a somewhat baggy crew-neck and jeans he has obviously had for quite a bit. Walking to his car, the air chilled his chest. While it was winter, Orlando’s weather wasn’t very fridget. That was unless the days were cloudy, sun masked by grey bodies of fog. This day happened to be one of them. The air was spiked with frosty winds that made Dream’s nose red.

Dream entered his car, moving over a water bottle to the passenger’s side. His car smelled new, having only recently bought it. He had never been much of a driver and would normally Uber at his leisure until his mother forced him last fall to bite the bullet. Even so, random objects he had forgotten or couldn’t carry back into the house littered the plush seats. “God I need to clean this thing.” Clay exasperated, sitting in his car and tore hell for leather to start the revving engine. Before backing out his driveway, Dream swiftly plugged an aux cord into the bottom of his phone. The speakers began to sing a guitar intro with a punk, 80’s vibe. The playlist he was playing was one of George’s. Green Day, Beatles, Red Hot Chili Peppers; his playlist was topped up on classics. For the next couple of songs Dream would mumble words, weaving in and out freeway traffic until he reached the desired exit. Pulling out onto a busy street, a new song slowly started to play. An echoey drum line began. It was slow but rhythmic. Dream’s eyes squinted lightly. He knew he had heard this song before but not in an ample amount of time to remember who it was by or what the next words were.

_I wanna to be your vacuum cleaner. Breathing in your dust._

_I wanna be your Ford Cortina. I will never rust._

Dream’s thumb thumped his leather wheel to the beat. “Ah, Arctic Monkeys.” The singer’s accent made him realise out loud. He glanced very briefly at his phone. ‘I Wanna Be Yours’. Clay’s chest felt as if it stiffened, finding the title a bit ironic.

_If you like your coffee hot. Let me be your coffee pot?_

_You call the shots, babe._

Dream’s eyes glossed, thoughts trailing to George. His fluster. His phone call.

_I just want to be yours._

A grip on the wheel distinguished his pale, green veins.

_Secrets I have held in my heart. Are harder to hide than I thought._

_Maybe I just wanna be yours, I wanna be yours, I wanna be y-_

Dream cranked his volume down in hostility, breaks hitting hard enough to jolt his head forward. His thoughts speeded through the image of George. His dark eyes that somehow shined. His grin that made his brain weak; it was almost like a spell. What he would do for him, for any glance his way that wasn’t _just_ platonic. Dream knew he was love-sick, but what he didn’t know was how hard he had fallen. He glanced up at the red stop light, scoffing at himself. He was disappointed that even a song could make his emotions run rampant. Get over yourself. Dream shook his head, beginning to drive again. The song was muffled through volume, but he could hear the words repeat in his head aggressively. The secrets his heart felt for years now were imprisoned. A slave for George. Now that the brunet might have someone who stole his, it was making Dream’s ardor unbridled. His cloudy thoughts almost caused him to miss his turn. Flicking on his blinker, he swivelled into a parking lot. Dream’s chest bloomed with anxiety, a rose of thorns prickled at his stamina. ‘Clearview Medical Centre’ read above the large, windowed building. Dream loathed the fact that he had to visit. Not because he didn’t want to, but that seeing his father’s pleading grasp for life ached his core.


	2. Cold Sweats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream visits a relative at the hospital, later to be comforted by his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ik this story is going kinda fast, bare with me its my first real fic LMAO :)). sorry for the major angst n shit in this one but like.. im proud of it lmfao
> 
> Please please be careful tho and don't continue if stuff like ill relatives and panic attacks are a trigger!! its a heavy topic in this chapter.

The past few hours was nothing but bleary fragments for Dream. Vain atmosphere. Bitter, white halls. Chatter echoed the entire building yet he had never been somewhere that made him feel so desolate. Stiff hospital sheets and the wilting flowers potted next to them. The haze of his trip distorted his memories, but he could distinctly remember his father’s melancholy smile. The I.V drip. His mother’s emerald eyes that swam with tears. Dream felt as if his mind was static; his banter with his family felt automated off his tongue. 

“He’s gonna be okay.” His sister huffed in his chest, voice straining to hold back a sob. Dream released a gloomy sigh into her hair, hugging her a bit tighter. Him and his family had moved out to the lobby to say forlorn goodbyes. Sharing forced smiles and to smell the dry, sanitized air. 

“Hey, aren’t I supposed to be the one comforting you?” He ruffled her blonde hair, pulling out of the hug with a hand on her shoulder. She laughed under her breath, wiping the crooks of her eye’s with a sleeve. 

“Yeah, I guess.” She looked up at him. Dream could see how much she was hurting, the pain in her eyes piercing his chest. It was obligated of him to put on a face of comfort for his younger sibling.

“Text me if you need to talk, okay? Or if anything new comes up.” Dream asked in reassurance. He glanced at his mother who was mid-conversation with a doctor. She returned the glance, face stale and downcast. If anyone was most distressed, it was his mom. A sharp inhale of anxiety filled his lungs. As he looked back at his sister. “I’ll see you again soon.” He followed with a heartening half-smile before waving off the rest of his family. 

The stress of the hospital was suffocating enough to have made Dream not realize the drumming of rain outside. The wet concrete stared back at him mockingly for forgetting an umbrella. Humid air made his hands feel immediately sticky. The splatter of the water droplets began dotting his shoes as he sighed in exhaustion. He began out to his car quickly, a hand shading his eyes from the downpour. Rummaging to unlock his car, he sat in the driver’s seat with a huff. Dream then swiftly took off his now soaked jacket, tossing it on his passenger’s seat. The air soon settled as he caught his breath. His thoughts darted to the cold, vinyl flooring of the hospital room. His father’s hands. The rasp in his breath. Clay clutched his steering wheel as emotions inundated him finally. Not a tear was shed in front of his family, however now that his grasp on reality took hold he couldn’t help but let a whimper escape him. Dream’s other hand clapped his forehead as sobs filled his car. Trails of rainwater blanketed his windshield. It was the ultimate cliche setting.

In most instances, crying was healthy. It was not like Dream did it often, but in a mournful event like this it was valid to let go. He laid his head back against his headrest, gripping the roots of his dirty-blond locks. His mouth curled into a sour frown. His eye’s resisted opening; he wanted to leave his thoughts. His lament was healthy enough until weeps turned to gasps for air; until sinking into his seat turned to baleful shaking. Sharp breaths made his head spin, nose dripping and chin dribbling off salty tears. He could feel his mind go black as his body only intensified. Dream curled his legs onto his seat, tucking his damp face into his arms. He did not care about his wet shoes or how the rain outside subtly got heavier. Hyperventilation was what made him realise he was beyond panic. His thoughts were shouting at him. Every tear-jerking incident that had panged his heart in the past few days flooded. It was until Dream reflected back to George where things got worse. George’s smile that wasn’t worn for him. The fact that George would never return his sentiment. The clutch on his arm became tighter and sobs blared beneath the beating of rain. He knew it was unfair to George to want these things; this only made his self-loathing stronger. His glassy eyes managed to look over at his phone peeking out the pocket of his jacket. His breath was shuttering, body aching from trembles. He didn’t want to be alone; he _couldn't_ be alone. Dream knew himself too well that he would revv his car and do something stupid the seccond he was able to see straight. His hands quivered to reach for his phone. After unlocking, he navigated to his contacts. He began to dial George’s number. 

One ring turned into two, then three. The line shortly went to voicemail, leaving Dream’s heart drained. Between snivels he looked at himself in the rearview mirror. Only his puffy, flushed eyes could be seen. His lids were glossy from tears, eyelashes clumped together. He looked like a wreck in all sense of the word. He peered back down at his phone, unconsciously navigating to contact under George. The dial began to ring again. Dream sniffled, wiping at his nose as his mind was slowly clearing a storm. 

“Hello?” Sapnap’s voice felt fresh to Dream’s ears. Something edifying, something soothing compared to the chilling voices of those in grief. He didn’t realize he hadn’t said anything until the other spoke again. “Dream?”

“Hey, Sapnap.” Clay responded with a voice crack. His nasally disposition gave away immediately to Nick that he had been crying. 

“Hey, are you alright?” His voice mellowed out of compassion automatically. 

“Yeah, um,” Dream sniffled under his words. His head turned to look out his window as flashing blue and yellow lights shined coruscant through fog. His chest heaved negativity. _I bet he was busy and now I'm only bothering him._ “I just didn’t think I should be alone right now. If that's okay.”

“Yeah, of course.” Sapnap began without falter. He sounded genuinely concerned. “What happened, are you alright?”

“Mhm.” Dream mumbled as he untucked his legs off his seat. “I went to visit my dad in the hospital and I guess I just lost it.” 

“Shit. I’m sorry, man.” Dream could hear as Sapnap’s mouse clicked a few times. He guessed that he might’ve been in the middle of playing a game. “Lost it? Did something happen?”

“Well nothing horrible, I just started freaking out over everything.” Dream could feel as drowsiness suddenly weighed on his body. His face stretched in a yawn, dried tears making his skin feel tight.

“Nothing horrible but you freaked out? C’mon dude you’ve got to be more specific. Like are you _okay_?” His last word was emphasised. Of course ‘okay’ could mean a number of things but Dream knew what he meant. 

“The whole visit was hazy. I was too in my head to do something crazy, though.” Dream realized as he brought a hand to his forehead. The heat scolded his cold fingers. “I got in my car and just started crying real bad. I didn’t like, _punch_ someone or anything like that.” His words started to soften. He knew that talking to his closest friends was definitely the best way for Dream to calm down

“Ah, alright. Good.” Nick sighed, relief soothed his voice. “When you first called I could’ve sworn I heard sirens. I thought you got arrested or something.” He continued with a chuckle. 

“You wish you could get rid of me that easily.” Dream’s mouth curled spontaneously. Nick could be heard with a giggle on the other side. Reality slowly pasteurized, Clay noticed a lot more easily that the rain was settling. Dewy grain of water only drizzled above his car. A desperate ray of sun peeked shyly onto the wet ground. Dream began to feel guilty, bothering Sapnap for what now feels like nothing; at the time, however he felt as if his lungs were subsiding. “I’m sorry for bothering you, man. Just, you know me. I probably would’ve done something stupid without someone to call.” 

“Hey, hey. Don’t be sorry. You’re not burdening at all.” Sapnap consoled. “I'm glad you called, Dream. You don’t deserve to go through this alone, y’know?” 

Dream’s eyes fixated on the hospital. He wondered what was going through his father’s head. He could never tell, even before his illness. He never wanted to know so bad until now. “Thank you.” He grumbled under heart-ache before tearing his eyes from the building. His head dipped down to look at his lap. Dirty puddles covered his seat, he began to feel disturbed from sitting in rainwater for so long. “Okay, okay. Sorry for the emotional talk.” Dream sniffled with a breathy laugh. “I’ve gotta get out of these wet clothes. I’ll text you when I get home?”

“Alright, man. Be careful in the rain.” Nick responded. Right as Dream brought his phone from his ear the other began to add something with a shout of attention. “Oh, oh! Wait. I’m pretty sure Karl is streaming Jackbox in a few hours. I get if you’re not up to it but if you need something to get your mind off things let me know.” 

“Ah, okay cool. I might join if I'm up.” He considered. Dream genuinely wanted to join, but could feel dreary waves take over his body by the minute. He had hung up, taking a second to reflect. He looked back up at his mirror again, hair ruffled and cheeks aflush. He exhausted a sigh before turning a key. An engine hum ignited. Dream rode back home in silence; no music, no thoughts. He felt as if his head was incapable of focusing on more than just the road.

  
  


\--

  
  


Dream woke up to the buzz of his phone. His eyes fluttered open. His pillowcase was damp, sheets tossed off the bed in messy disorganization. The last thing he remembered at the time was stumbling through his door, hopping in a quick shower and passing out on his mattress. His body was sore as he attempted to move; all he could do was tilt his head to the side to see who was texting. 

The message was titled from the sender: George. ‘You’re missing out on this game.’ He began to read. Dream shifted up in reluctance, opening up his phone and reading the rest of his messages. ‘They keep making jokes about you its fucking halarious.’ Clay was happy to wake up with a smile. It was odd however to see older messages, ones sent about two hours prior. ‘Hey, sorry. I wasn’t looking at my phone.’ ‘Are you okay?’ ‘I talked to sapnap a little, im super sorry.’ The edge’s of his mouth drooped down slightly, remembering his day more clearly. How he had called George, only to be greeted by a voicemail. That hardly happened when it came to his number. Dream wanted to reply, but didn’t. The last thing he wanted was to seem upset about it, but he knew he would no matter what he said. 

He navigated to Twitch on his phone, pulling up Karl’s stream to be immediately met by erupting laughter. They were playing Patently Stupid, and almost every one of their submissions were about Dream taking it up the ass. He stifled a chuckle at the stream, waking him up enough to pull himself out of bed and start up his computer. After it had, he clicked open the discord server where the group was in a voice channel. 

‘You nasty fucks.’ He typed after pulling a headset over his showery locks. 

‘Let me join in’

Karl could be seen turning to his second screen, reading his message with a cackle. “Oh, no. Dream wants to join.” The rest of them, George, Sapnap, Badboyhalo, and Quackity began protesting. Dream joined the channel anyway. 

“You guys are seriously making me wake up to _this_?” Dream joked as laughter followed. 

“George started it, I swear to god.” Quackity imputed. 

“What? No, I didn’t. Stop lying.” George quarreled. Dream could hear the smile through his teeth. 

“You just woke up? Hot morning voice check?” Sapnap imputed sending Clay into a wheeze. 

“What are you talking about? No.” Dream retorted blithely.

“Oh, yeah. Dream keep talking like that.” George cracked, making Karl and Quackity flare out a strong laugh. Dream joined in, and even though it was obviously for giggles it still made his mind drift for a small second. 

The next half hour Dream had joined in the game. While being surrounded by probably the most entertaining people he knew, his voice was still undertoned with bleak despondency. He was sure his friends noticed, and most likely half of the audience. However he felt that it wasn’t something he could help. Dream was never really good at that sort of transparency. His mind slowly started to space as time progressed. Responses were oddly delayed, laughs came with half the enthusiasm. The atmosphere of the call shifted when Karl began to end his stream and part with the viewers in a different call. His eyes fixed on his Twitch window, watching the flashing colors of Karl’s chat roll made him miss streaming. He hadn’t done it in quite the amount of time. To see his fan’s glee on social media over just the twitch notification. _I think I might do it again soon._ He decided in his thoughts. The background chatter of the call abruptly faded in as the conversation peeked his attention. 

“Don’t get mopey, George. We all know you’ve already got a special someone to keep you company during the snowstorm.” Quackity teased. From what he said, Dream gathered that George was upset about not being able to go anywhere due to the weather. As well that Quackity was referring to the person he had called on stream the day prior. 

“What?” George rebuffed with an awkward chuckle. “Oh. No, no. That isn’t like that.” 

“What isn’t?” Dream chimed in, desperate to know more. 

“I just want to know who was making George’s pants tight on stream yesterday because _holy shit,_ when the chat said you were blushing they were not lying.” Quackity laughed, along with Nick. 

“Let him be, Quackity. If he wanted to tell us he would’ve already.” Badboyhalo scorned. Dream could feel a small rush of qualm heartbeats touching his veins. He tilted into his seat a bit more; he couldn’t give up on the conversation so easily. 

“No, no. I want to know too.” Dream grinned as he steadily watched George’s icon. “You can’t do something like _that_ on steam and not tell us.”

George could be heard with a strained sigh. The tension built up sweat in his palms. Cold sweats. 

“You guys are so nosey.” George finally muttered. Dream could imagine him shaking his head or his eyebrows grooving together in irritation. “Just someone I’m talking to, okay?” 

A muscle in Clay’s jaw twitched, disappointed in his answer. _No shit._ He suddenly realized how unusually quiet Sapnap was. He knew he was present, hearing a shuffle and a few keyboard clicks through his mic. Something about it all was hellishly off-putting. Dream let out a loud sigh. “Well that parts pretty obvious.” Dream grumbled. “Fine, we get it. You don’t kiss and tell.”

“No one is kissing anybody.” George retorted. 

“No kissing yet? I could’ve sworn they called you cute, though. Right?" Dream's expression coarsened, eye's blazed with opulent desire. "Y'know I can read your lips pretty well, George.” 

The call’s ambience went frowsty. Dream knew his jealousy over stepped a few boundaries. He gulped in disquietude. 

The short but stifling air was broken from a small chuckle from Sapnap. “Somebody's jealous.” He said with a lighthearted jest. “Anywho, I think I might stream on my alt account. Anyone want to join?” 

Dream couldn’t help but let a quiet laugh escape, mostly at himself. “Oops, you caught me.” He gritted his teeth in frustration. George remained silent. “Yeah, no. I’m heading off. It’s been a long day.” Dream disconnected before anyone could respond. He slid back in his chair in enervation, tilting his head to the side to look at his window. The yellow glow of a streetlight burned onto the pavement. A tree could be heard scraping against the window sill from the chilly breeze. “I’m a fucking idiot.” Dream mumbled to himself in thought. 

His phone abruptly pulsed against his desk. He didn’t want to check, let alone move in general. However his arm still reached for his phone, reading the notification in his lock screen. Dream’s mouth went dry. 

‘Can I call you?’ George texted.


	3. Truth Prevails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bitter-sweet phone call is just the beginning of Dream's long awaited secrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excessive swearing warning (?) oopsie

‘Can I call you?’ George texted. 

Dream’s eyes fluttered a blink at the text. Dread, anticipation, agitation. His chest raged a mix of emotions, halting any sort of reaction. _I should call right? Even if he’s going to be upset?_

A lip dragged between his teeth, swiping open the message. He could feel his heartbeat tingle throughout his rangy fingertips.

‘Sure’ Dream texted. He would’ve called on the spot, but he felt as if he needed a moment of delay in order to gather himself. His eyes glossed up to his computer screen, still active on discord. He watched as George’s icon disappeared from the call of people. His phone began to ring.

“Hey.” Dream spoke with a coarse resonance, pulling his phone up against his cheek.

“Dream.” George’s tone was irky. Frustrated, almost, spilling out his throat. This left Dream with no idea how to respond. His head scrambled different things to say, lips parting slightly. 

“I think it’s kinda weird that this is the second time in a row you’ve left without actually saying goodbye.” George began, laced with a sense of acerbity. However the tone shifted after a shallow clear of his throat. “I know you’ve got stuff going on, Dream. Do you want to talk about it?”

Dream knew he had been irritatingly distant. It was abnormal for his home life to influence his attitude with friends. That, except, it wasn’t just home life this time. It was the exact person confronting him to talk about it: George. The same person that makes his lungs bitter. The person who has Dream exhausted with envy. He closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling for a desperate air of relief but finding nothing but the same shitty feeling. “Well you already know what's happening with my dad. I guess there’s nothing much to say.” 

“You guess?” George’s accent rumbled into Dream’s chest. 

“Yeah. I guess.” Dream avowed a response.

The call went still. Dream couldn’t begin a tangent about his state of mind right now; it would only lead to him saying something he’d regret. 

“So you don’t want to talk now but you did a few hours ago?” George articulated.

“It's complicated.” Clay bit down at his cheek. 

“What's so complicated about it?” George continued to question. Dream’s day was exhausting. His patience ran thin, building up nothing but vexation. 

Dream groaned at his persistence, running a hand through his roots. “Bad had a point, y’know. If I wanted to talk about it I would’ve already. Just like with you and your mystery buddy.” 

He could feel George’s scowl through the phone. “Are you seriously still on about that? What is up with you and my love life? No, _Sapnap_ had a point. You’re jealous.”

Dream’s chest rose sharply, apprehension stabbing his ribs. George had confirmed it. _His love life._

“I-” Clay began with a loss of explanation. This was what he wanted to avoid, yet his mouth slipped regardless. “I’m not jealous. It’s just weird that you refuse to talk about them. Like, George. You have _never_ talked about a girl. But suddenly when you have one to talk about you’re completely closed off?” He brought a hand to rub the back of his neck, jitters making his limbs move unevenly. “I won’t continue to force you, but we normally tell each other pretty much everything. It’s just a little questionable.”

George sat silent, making Dream seem that he was able to make sense without showing his burdening envy. However, his response proved otherwise. 

“It’s not _just_ about you, Dream.” George returned, anger leaving his tongue as his voice deepened. Clay has heard George truly mad from time to time. It always lingered in Dream’s memory. He always sounded like he was going to cry in an argument; emotions were made clear to be a bit inaccessible for him. However, the way his tone was now. Bittle, all reason flaking away. He sounded purely frustrated, not sad. As if he was swallowing down an entire plethora of rage induced quarrels. “Just like with you. It’s complicated. Why can’t you just reason with that?”

He sounded like he wanted to say something he had forced down for a long time. 

“What _is_ it about then? Because you sound like you’re about to lose ur shit just because I’m curious. It just feels like you’re keeping shit from me.” Dream bit down his tongue, stopping himself from pursuing further. This fight wasn’t needed. “Why are you even mad?”

George’s response was higher pitched, voice cracking from adrenaline. “Because I _can't_ talk to you about it. Too much shit will spill out and he’ll fucking-” 

George’s lips clamped shut. The call drew quiet. 

_He._

Dream’s jaw unhinged, breathe heating on the spot. _George is talking to a guy?_ His thoughts sang louder than any form of reason. _Does that mean I could actually.._

_Can there actually be hope for him to look my direction?_

“He? Like, a dude?” Dream stumbled over his words. His body tensed in a frustrating confusion. While George’s sexuality wasn’t _not_ questioned, George had always preached that he was straight. Never second guessed. Never reconsidered. That was the one thing he confirmed would never be different. But this, a complete contradiction, spun Dreams head. He even felt dizzy. “You’re really talking to a guy? Like you didn’t say that to fuck with me?” Dream asked, trying to make sense of it all. 

George mumbled a low “Yes.” He sounded almost embarrassed, like his voice was avoiding eye contact. 

Dream’s search for a response ran rampant in his thoughts. At first, his heart sank in resentment. He questioned to himself why George, his closest friend for about five years, never said anything. His mindset quickly changed. He grew happy for him. While him keeping his sexuality a total enigma to everyone, it only meant that telling him about it (intentionally or not) took even more courage. He was still his best friend, and he was proud. 

“Shit, man.” Dream began, voice coated a bit more jovial. “That’s why you didn’t talk about it?” Dream began, waiting for a response but received none. The last thing he wanted though was for George to regret letting it slip. “Listen. I’m really fucking proud of you for telling me, okay? You deserve to be comfortable with yourself. I don’t care about anything else as long as you’re happy, George.” He consoled truthfully. Dream stared relentlessly at his phone, reflection glossing his eyes as he anticipated his words. 

“You’re annoying.” George laughed under a choked up breath. “And way too nice sometimes.” While the call took an unexpectedly light turn, awkwardness still tensed the air between words. Dream looked at his monitor, now black due to inactivity. His silhouette glowered back at him, his clearly messy hair with small clumps of damp locks, sticking to the sides of his forehead. The collar of his shirt was carelessly slid to the side, exposing a good amount of his collarbones. He looked completely wrecked and exhausted. Even so, he felt more awake than he had in days. Clay’s disappointed stare at his appearance was interrupted by George. “I’m sorry.” He expressed in a low mutter. 

Clay sighed, quiet enough to not be heard on the other end. “Don’t be. I was the one egging you on.” Dream began. He didn’t realize how tense his body was. As the conversation thawed into gaiety, his posture began to lax. “I’m sorry if that was built up for long- you telling me I mean. I’m glad you did, though.” Dream desperately bit down the question he truly wanted to ask. 

“Well,” George began with a sigh, mostly filled with relief. “You were going to practically force it out of me anyways. Shit, you’re persistent.” This sent the two of them to chuckle a bit until silence fell again. Dream turned his chair around to face his bed for a mild change of atmosphere, laying his phone on his thigh. Blankets rolled off onto his rug, sheets wrinkled enough to make him cringe. His thoughts swam to an uncharted place for a moment. That bed and its memories. The person he once shared it with. An ex who pretty much played “catch” with his heart. Throwing his mental health around like it was nothing but a game. His eyes quickly flicked away from the bed. This whole conversation made Dream feel almost nostalgic for when his friends first knew of his old partner. Congratulations filled the call for coming out. George was oddly silent. He thought nothing of it at the time. 

_Was he jealous?_

Dream’s pulse stopped a beat. 

_Stop thinking like that idiot._

Dream shook his head, attempting to throw off any wandering thoughts. 

“So, what happened to being the straightest guy on the planet?” Dream asked, a sly grin appeared on his face. 

George replied with a bursted laugh. “Shut up.”

“I don’t think I will.” Dream replied sardonically. “This is like- the definition of a one-eighty.”

George affirmed with a soft voice. “We all lie to ourselves about one thing or another.” 

“Well. You really convinced me with that one, George.” Dream spatted sarcastically, obviously to get a ruse out of him. George responded with a gasp, taking offense. 

“Oh look who's talking. You couldn’t get what's his name out of your mouth for months.” 

_Ah, what's his name._

Dream’s smile turned sad, throat making a sound of an uncomfortable groan. George hadn’t talked about Clay’s ex in years, not since they had broken up. 

“Shit. Sorry I didn’t-” 

“Shut up. You’re fine.” Dream attempted to change the subject, forcing a careless attitude into his voice. However, George didn’t answer. He could tell he felt bad. Dream tilted his head back, taking in a deep breath. His muscles still ached from his earlier blown gasket of tears. He suddenly felt guilt rise in his body. Thinking over in his mind if he was being too much of a burden. If he’s causing unnecessary drama. Clay’s brows curled into dismay. Despite this, he couldn’t shake the main thing on his mind. “So,” Clay’s mouth moved without thought. His fingers began fidgeting with anxiety. “Who’s the lucky guy?” 

George was oddly hesitant with his answer; Dream knew him well enough ,just based on his amount of time to respond, to know that he’s on edge. A clear in his throat could be heard with chilling apprehension. 

“You remember Lewis, right?” 

Dream’s hands stopped. 

“George.” Clay’s voice sharpened, vowels stern and sharp. 

“I know what you’re going to say. This is why I avoided telling you.” George began in hope to hope to explain. Dream raised an eyebrow as a way to say ‘amuse me.’ His mind flicked back to many years prior, before he had even met George. A different, compact group of friends. All of which have split ways and drifted off; of course, except Sapnap. The last ones to eventually sever was Lewis and another of the group, Dylan. The two slowly became close, establishing a relationship that lasted well around a year. The pair seemed grounded, both of them were joyous at the beginning. It ended, however, about two years after Dream had met George. Lewis and George had interactions before then, yes. Mellow, late nights playing Minecraft. Banter in laid-back Discord calls. Given they both resided near London, common interests were formed. However, Dream never once thought it would lead to this level of absurdity. 

Lewis was cut ties from Clay’s life after a perfidy, manipulative break up with Dylan. Cheating, mental abuse, gaslighting. Dream simply wouldn’t allow someone so poisonous in his or his friend’s lives. That was what he hoped, anyway. 

“You’re fucking joking, right?” Dream scoffed, resting his elbows on his knees, hands running over his face in disappointment. “Do you even know what- _disgusting_ shit he did to Dylan?”

“He has gotten better. Seriously. Went to a hospital and shit for almost a year.” George expounded, almost pleading for Dream to give him a chance with it. Clay could feel as rage promptly flooded his body. His ears felt hot. Hands clenching into wound fists. Dream’s throat tightened as he wanted to cuss out the other, mouth slightly agape. That, until George interrupted. “I.. like him, okay?” 

George’s words nearly shattered his heart. It was one to speculate, but to hear George defend someone like Lewis because he enjoys him _that_ much. Everyone was right. He was jealous and has never been more corrupted by it. Dream bit down his lip, tears pinching behind his eyelids. He swallowed his words; he couldn’t bear to say anything.

“Dream?” George mumbled, concern glazing his tone. 

Dream managed to hold back any sniffle or hiccup. He barely managed his waters not to cascade down his freckle-dusted cheeks. Clay inhaled sharply. “How long have you guys been talking?” His raspy question was all he could manage to reply with, anything else would've tipped him over the edge. 

“Not long. About a few weeks.” George stuttered, anxiety fueled his tongue. “He reached out first, by the way.” He answered before Dream could even speculate. “I’m serious, Dream. Lewis makes me happy.”

Dream gritted his teeth. _I should be happy for him._

His head tilted down, hands clutching his flaxen strands as tempter made him physically strianted. _He’s still my best friend._

Dream felt as a single tear dripped down his skin. His eyes weren’t angry anymore. They shined glassy with dolor. _Put on a face for him, god dammit._

“Like I said earlier, I don’t care about anything as long as you’re happy.” His voice was strianted noticeably, throat aching from choking back a weep. “Just- know what you’re getting into. I’ve known Lewis way longer. He’s-” Dream bit back saying something that will upset George. His eyes screwed shut in distress. “I hope it turns out well.” 

“Do you actually mean that? Or- are you just saying it to make me happy.” George’s accent sounded broken. 

“I fucking- care about you, George. I just don’t want you to get hurt. That's the only reason why i'm upset.” Clay divulged. His head was still propped aggressively in his palms. 

_Fuck. It hurts._

“I’m really happy you're in my life, Clay.” George’s words were sudden, unexpectedly warming his heart. “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, and no one will ever change that. Please just, don't forget it okay?” His words trickled into soft emotion. George never does that. 

“Where’s this coming from?” Dream laughed a little in surprise. 

“God, just take the compliment.” George derided. 

“I won’t forget.” Dream uttered breathily, lifting his head up and peering back at his bed. “You’re like- my platonic soulmate, George. I can’t imagine myself without you.” His words, while completely from the heart, still forced a compliance of friendship. Only because that was all there was between them. Friendship. 

_Right?_

George took a moment to respond, however Clay knew it wasn’t out of dislike or anger. It was from bashfulness. He giggled through his teeth.

“Can’t imagine yourself without me? Aw, Dream.” George teased.

“Oh, shut it.” Clay hissed with a laugh. The call drew into silence yet again, this time more comforting. His heart still felt twisted, but he was satisfied at the fact that he chose not to continue arguing. To warp his shell to appear that he was okay with it all. Dream looked at his phone, showing that they had been calling for nearly twenty minutes. It felt like it had been hours. 

“Soulmates, huh?” George broke the silence, grin peeking through his sentence. “I can be okay with that.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SHITT this was a fun chapter. sorry for all the dialogue but like ;; ] anywho about the character Lewis. It is completely an OC. Not based on anyone just a posh asshole for plot purposes : )   
> If you enjoyed, a Kudos is super appreciated. This is turning out to be a longer fic than I thought and the support really keeps me motivated :))


End file.
